


spot of luck

by morelike-bi-light (bangtaire)



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bree Cullen, Bree Tanner Lives, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Everybody Lives, F/F, Fluff, Kittens, OP is a known Victoria Apologist TM, OP wrote this as a gift instead of writing the actual AU fic lol, OP wrote this instead of the actual AU fic required for context lol, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Victoria Cullen, Victoria Lives, Victoria Redemption Arc, considering I wrote this i might as well uh actually post something lol, crack ship, lmao remember when this was supposed to be 500 words lmao, played myself..... im exposed... my brand is my weakness...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:50:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21840790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bangtaire/pseuds/morelike-bi-light
Summary: Victoria ponders over how receptive Leah would be to a new party in their relationship. Spoiler: the party is kittens.Written for the prompt "Leahtoria fluff" as a gift to @effervescent-emmett who herself IS a gift, to our community and to me specifically. I was stupidly amused by the double application of 'fluff'.
Relationships: Leah Clearwater/Victoria, Leah Clearwater/Victoria Sutherland, Victoria Sutherland/Leah Clearwater, Victoria/Leah Clearwater
Kudos: 33





	spot of luck

She doesn’t know how long she sits there, legs crossed and back against the couch, staring at the side of that open cardboard box in the center of the coffee table. The box is white, with thick swishes and stripes of sky blue against which ‘We deliver!’ is spelt out in chunky block letters.

“What is wrong with you?”

Rosalie’s tone wavers between awe and disbelief, and if she didn’t know any better, Victoria would mistake her for impressed. As it is, she’s pretty sure she’s just amazed at the new levels of stupidity reached by her own - well, not flesh and blood, but sister. It seems all eternity has provided her is unlimited opportunities to break her own records.

Victoria groans, slumping over on the table and hiding behind her hands. Normally, she’d have some quip prepared, something about her being what’s wrong, or there being something wrong with Emmett for somebody cool like him to see something in her – it doesn’t have to be believable, just rude – but she just doesn’t have the faculties to be eloquent at the moment.

“I don’t know,” she says instead, shrugging helplessly. “I don’t know.”

“Because there must be something wrong with you–”

“I know.”

“–if you think that…” Even as she points an accusatory finger at the box, Rosalie keeps her appendage close to her chest, as if she’s worried getting too close will make her catch the crazy. “… is a good idea.”

“I know.”

She really does. Victoria tucks an orange curl slipping from her ponytail behind her ear, screwing up her mouth. Slowly, she straightens up, sitting on her haunches, and peers into the open box.

“But look at them,” she scowls. “They’re pathetic.”

Four tiny eyes - one pair gold, the other green - peer back at her from fuzzy, feline faces. The black one squints and meows, like he knows he’s been insulted.

“Jesus Christ,” Rosalie mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“It’s true!” Victoria insists. Brows furrowed, she dips her hand in and scoops up the first fluffy tube to stumble into her hand, lifting it up on display with both hands. The little white calico blinks up at their visitor, paws extended and shoulders hiked up to her little triangle ears, not unlike a zombie. “How are they supposed to hunt for themselves like this? They can’t.”

“That’s what the mother is for.” Rosalie crosses her arms and raises a stern brow. “Find the mom. Give them back.”

Grimacing, Victoria shakes her head, gently – if a bit awkwardly – placing the kitten back in its makeshift pen.

“Trust me, I’d love to,” she mutters, eyes sliding away.

Rosalie’s gaze narrows. “And yet?”

“Well,” she starts, “Bree and Esme went out for a quick hunt this morning…” The look on her sister’s face stops her.

“Oh, no.”

“Yeah. Bree’s pretty, uh, bummed out about it. So I told her I’d go back and grab the poor thing’s kids.”

“For God’s sake,” Rosalie mutters, but her expression is concerned. Then she sighs. “Still, you can’t expect them to stay here of all places.”

“I’m not that stupid,” Victoria grumbled. “Alice helped me find homes for the other three. She took two for the hospital and one to visit Charlie at the station. But there were two left, and I don’t have a lot of options, so–”

“Wait,” Rosalie sniffs, whipping towards the woods, then snaps back to fix a surprised stare on her sister. “Is that your little werewolf girlfriend?”

“Like I was saying–”

“I thought dogs and cats don’t mix.”

Victoria rolls her eyes, but she sits back on the couch, shifting nervously. “Would you get out already? I’ve got this. I’ll figure it out.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she mutters, as she turns on her heel. “Fine, I’m leaving. Keep your pets off the furniture.”

“I’m not responding to that,” Victoria mumbles, and her sister vanishes just in time for Leah to emerge from the treeline, jogging over to back porch as she makes a last ditch effort to smooth out any tangles in her hair. Her dark stare is soft in the sunlight, creasing gently as her lips stretch into a fond grin. Victoria starts smiling, starts running without even realizing it, suddenly painfully aware of the ache in her stony chest that always creeps in when they’ve been apart too long. Yanking open the door and leaping forward, she snatches her love into her arms and spins, burying her lips in the crook of her warm neck. Yelping and giggling, Leah wraps her legs around her waist and her arms around her neck, leaning away from her girlfriend’s cold nose.

“Warn a girl, would you? I’m ticklish!” She snorts, and though she makes a show of pouting, the redhead obliges and sets her down, hands moving to rest on the small of her back. Her petulance only elicits a smirk in response. “So I take it you missed me?”

“Who would have thought four days could last so long?” Victoria groans, resting her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder. “You know I’m so happy and proud of you – you deserve nothing less and way more – but I’d be just as proud if your publisher ran its business out of, I don’t know, Canada.”

“Aww,” Leah hums. “If it helps, San Diego was nice, but it was pretty boring without you.”

Victoria straightens and shrugs, trying to hide the way her mouth curls in satisfaction. “A little, maybe.”

“A little,” Leah nods, smothering her own smile.

Victoria’s about to ask how the meeting went, if her editor was nice, when the shifter stiffens, blinking. She turns her head towards the house, mouth pursed, then slowly looks back at her girlfriend.

“Hey… is there a reason why your family’s house smells like cats?” She asks, brows creased quizzically.

Going still, Victoria glances between her girlfriend and the door, mouth poised to answer but no sound coming out. After a moment, she reluctantly lets go of Leah’s middle, gently removing the arms around her neck and sliding her right hand into Leah’s left.

“There was an incident, this morning,” she starts, then pauses, searching for the right words. “I have something strange to ask you.”

“Okay… I’m listening.”

“Do you… have room for a couple of cats?”

“In my apartment?”

“And your heart,” Victoria teases, trying for a cheesy smile, but pulling off what feels more like a grimace.

“Are you serious?” For a second, Leah just looks at her, eyes roaming her features like she isn’t totally sure she’s real, but then she sighs. “Shit. Alright, lead the way.”

From Leah, that’s actually exactly the response she was hoping for. Hiding a smirk, Victoria pulls her girlfriend in the direction of the mewing box of furry babies, wisely declining to respond when she laments the irony of being born a 'cat person’. And it’s true – the second the Clearwater lays eyes on them, you can physically see her fate being sealed. It’s pretty adorable, really. She melts in their teeny presences, tucking them close to her chest and planting quick, sneaky kisses on their foreheads as she spouts off her supposedly limited wealth of cat knowledge.

“I’m such a sucker,” she laments after fifteen minutes of fawning. She lifts the black kitty up to her face and he licks her nose. “I’m a fool. I deserve this.”

Worried what kind of romantic goop will come out if she tried to respond verbally, Victoria just nods, love in her eyes and the feistiest calico on the planet gnawing fruitlessly on her pinkie.

“And you don’t mind this little guy?” Leah asks with a wry glance. The lapse in her attention frustrates the orphan occupying her lap, and soon she’s given into the black kitten’s insistent mewing and nudging with careful head scratches. “I mean, black cats were said to be bad omens in your day.”

“Or witches.” She takes a moment to reflect on this, before shrugging. “So were redhead girls who played near the woods.”

For a second, she feels her age acutely. She avoids Leah’s eyes, thoughtfully running her fingers through the calico’s fur, observing quietly as she attempts to knead at her leg. The kitten grows increasingly frustrated as her claws pierce through denim only to scrabble against what may as well be marble. A warm weight settles on Victoria’s shoulder, and she leans into it, burying her nose in Leah’s dark hair.

“So were women who loved each other, right? And I love you,” she murmurs. “So, okay, screw it. More fun to be 'wicked’ together.”

“A lot more fun,” Victoria smirks, turning to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth, but Leah frowns, tapping her nose before it can go any further.

“Not in front of the children,” she scolds. “Speaking of which, what are we gonna name these little gremlins?”

Victoria huffs, then looks over the gremlins in question, starting with the one furiously pushing her claws into her jeans in an increasingly erratic rhythm. “I don’t know. Spot?”

The suggestion earns her a look of disbelief. “That’s a dog name.”

“Jake is also a dog name.”

“Shut up.”

“I like Spot,” Victoria insists, “and she’s on my lap. I think that gives me naming rights.”

“Naming rights.” Leah rolls her eyes, before gluing them back to the animal in her own lap. “Okay, fine. We have Spot. Now we just need to figure out this little guy.”

“Well, he’s on your lap. So the responsibility falls to you.”

“Lucky for him,” Leah mutters under her breath, then pauses. “What about… Lucky?”

“Huh.” Victoria blinks. The corners of her mouth start to twitch. “For our little bad omen?”

Leah shrugs, stroking a finger along his cheek. The purr it drags out is loud enough to startle Spot into looking up from her work on distressing her name-giver’s denim. “Yeah, what do you think?”

Victoria looks at the cat in question, who looks back with pleased, gold slits.

“Hey, Lucky,” she says. “Meet your sister, Spot.”

“And the weirdest parents you could have possible hoped for,” Leah laughs, shaking her head.

“Happy-weird,” Victoria corrects her.

“Right. Happy-weird.”

**Author's Note:**

> Man, can't believe I've gotta fill up this whole tag with fic myself. If you're interested in less formal, possibly even illegible ramblings about Victoria, Leah, their relationship, or this AU, come visit me on tumblr at morelike-bi-light and talk to me because I am both captain and crew of this tiny little ship and the only fuel that keeps it going comes in the form of stray inquiries I get reminding me that this AU still needs to be written!


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